It has come to pass that we are working with the Stevens Community Humane Society again, which means that they have foisted another
hell-beast cat upon us to house.
This is she.
She is a young beast, all black with a white patch on her chest. She is very curious and there has been a little problem with getting her to sit still — she’s got our whole house to explore so she’s rushing about all the time. She will occasionally jump on me with her claws and bump her head against my chin while making curious throbbing noises — I think it’s the sound of the millstones of Hell grinding souls to a pulp, or something.
We’ve been closing the bedroom doors tightly at night to prevent her nefarious pouncing — I think she has evil plans — but by day, we might have to collude. My cunning brain and her predatory energy…we could take over the world, if one of us doesn’t stab the other in the back.
I am calling her Satanique. The humane society gave her the name Ivy, which you might prefer if you’d rather cloak her true nature. If you’d like to break up our wicked partnership before our plans reach fruition, or if you think you need a partner in crime of your very own, contact the Stevens Community Humane Society. Tell them you want the black-furred agent code-named Ivy that is holed up in the Myers safehouse. They might be able to arrange something.